In order to save the world from eternal night, Red must find a way to unlock the dormant power of the Sun Goddess running through her veins without killing herself and everyone she loves.
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Hunter trembled as he stepped into the quicksilver pool, holding his breath as the milky water lapped at his ankles, seeping into his leather boots. It was unnatural; impossible; and above all else, inexcusable that such fantastical magic had been kept from him all these years.
It was not fear that made him shake as he waded into the heart of the Moon Gate, but rage. Rage that he'd been kept impotent and in the dark by his father. That even Bradon and Gordon had been trusted with the knowledge of portal making before he had. How many days had he wasted travelling on foot, when he could have crossed the continent with a single step?
There was only one explanation for his exclusion, and it was that Rogan wanted him gone while he tended to secret business in son's absence. The thought made Hunter see Red -- the colour and his mate, the mate he could have saved if he had access to the portals, if he could have intercepted her in time.
But for what? his conscience nagged. So that she could come back to a life of drinking poison, none the wiser? So that I could rule with a cripple by my side? It was only by gaining independence that Red had recovered from the daily dose of poison Rogan called medicine for years. It was only by removing herself from the village that she'd finally been able to find some measure of health and happiness.
Hunter missed a step. The sloping bottom of the pond dropped off into a sharp cliff and he plunged, gasping in one last breath before the waters closed over his head.
He expected to travel through a rift of some kind, but it was more like passing through a beaded curtain, a slight tingling sensation that marked his transition from one space into the next. Kicking feet found purchase in squelching mud, which sucked at Hunter's boots as he climbed up the sloping bank towards the surface.
Hunter emerged in a small clearing, droplets of milky water evaporating off his skin as he waded to shore. When he stepped onto the beach he was completely dry, as were Bradon and Gordon, already waiting for him.
"I know this place," Hunter said, fangs of anger ripping through his chest.
It was Nya's Hand-Mirror, the closest water source to the Blood Moon village. The air was heavily perfumed by night-flowering lily-pads, the banks cushioned by equally fragrant grass. He'd brought many a girl here over the years; usually the louder ones, who couldn't help but announce their coupling to the entire village.
For a split second, Hunter wished he'd brought Red here instead. They may have only talked, given how sickly she was back then, but he wondered if even that might have eased the loneliness his other conquests had barely distracted him from.
Red had known loneliness. He'd seen it in her mind, relived it through their mate bond as her life flashed before her eyes.
Hunter recoiled from the empty longing that washed through him at the memory, fixating on his anger instead. It was bright and fierce as Nya's Grace. It made him feel powerful instead of weak, though he feared it would burn through him before long, leaving a shrivelled husk of a man in its wake. If he could even call himself that.
